


Bonus Potters

by EyesWatchingUs



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dissociative Identity Disorder, Gen, Generic “Harry Potter but he’s got a dissociative disorder” fic, I just live here, It’s either, Magic as a plot device, Mental Illness as a plot device, Obligitory “I’m not a psych”, Otherwise Specified Dissociative Disorder 1-B, Title’s a plur joak heeheehue, and also a way to rip apart the character of Harry Potter, or - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-05
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:13:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28575816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EyesWatchingUs/pseuds/EyesWatchingUs
Summary: “ Harry Potter was nine when he noticed that he was not alone.”Harley and Thomas Potter navigate the wizarding world together, trying to survive and maybe even live.Alternatively, a dissociative author’s fantasy of being a cool wizard who’s important, powerful, smart, and knows himselves. Think of this as having a similar tone to The Spy Kids series.
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	1. Chapter 1

Harry Potter was nine when he noticed that he was not alone.

“Hello?” He whispered cautiously, not wanting to be heard by his aunt. 

“Hello..?” The whispering voice came out of his mouth unprompted by him. It was sharper than his. Harry thought it sounded smarter.

“Who are you?” 

“I’m Harry Potter.” It responded. Harry frowned at the voice.

“Why do you think you’re Harry?”

“Everyone calls me by that name.”

“People call  _ me _ that name..”

“Well, we can’t have the same name, now can we?”

“I guess not….” Harry curled his toes.

“Well, how about my name is Harry and yours is Potter?” 

“No, that won’t work. How about we just have different names, like you can be Thomas Potter and I can be Harley Potter?” 

“Where did you get Thomas from?”

“You don’t have to call yourself Thomas-“

“No, I like having my name be Thomas. I’m just curious where you got it from.” Thomas, the newly named voice crossed their arms which felt weird to Harley.

“Oh, I heard my teacher say that Thomas was a smart name and you sound smart.. so”

“Thank you, Harley.”

They both smiled.


	2. Fuck you, Brat Boy

Thomas was in control of their body when they got their robes fitted for Hogwarts. A pale boy waited next to them.

“Hogwarts, eh?” He said to Thomas.

“Indeed.” Thomas shortly responded, reminding the pale boy of his father.

“Which house are you hoping for?”

“I don’t have a preference.” Tom was cold at best, which often earned him lots of teasing from Harley.

The pale boy eyed him for a second.

“Well, I’m Slytherin. It’s the best house. My family has been in it for generations.” The blond bragged.

“You mean you’re hoping for Slytherin.” Thomas lazily said. 

“No.” The boy nervously laughed. “If anyone’s gonna be in Slytherin, it’s me. I mean I am a Malfoy.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow. 

“Good luck.” He said, then smiled the way Aunt Petunia did whenever she bad-mouthed the neighbors, which was a snide and petty thing.

Malfoy disliked it.

“Potter? Please come back now.” 

Malfoy startled as Thomas rose.

“Harry Potter?” Thomas stopped and turned to him.

“Please Malfoy, call us Potter and Potter alone.” Thomas then bared his teeth and went to be fitted.

Madame Malkin usually felt that wizards had common sense. 

“Madame, may I ask you a question?” Harry Potter said very quietly. Madame looked up from where she was measuring his ankles, taken aback at the old etiquette the child used. 

“You may.”

“The Malfoy child in the waiting area referred to me by the body’s name. Do you know why he may have had access to it?”

Madame Malkin stared at him dumbfounded, then laughed. Surely this was a joke? 

Thomas felt himself being pulled out of control and internally groaned.

Harley didn’t know why the woman was laughing so he waited for her to stop.

“What’s so funny?” He asked.

The woman’s face crunched into concern. 

“Do you really not know?”

“I guess not…?”

“Do you know about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?”

“Who now?” Harley asked. The woman looked upset. Harley felt sick and cold.

“I’m sorry, was there reading I was supposed to do before I got here? I’m so sorry! I’m sorry, I wasn’t told about this in my Hogwarts letter! Istheregonnabeatestonthis? I’m sorry I didn’t study, Is there gonna be a test? Did I miss the te”

Thomas finally regained control.

“Ssst. I’m sorry, what about a test?”

Madame Malkin only realized how small Potter was when he was panicking. The sudden beginning and subsequent halt of fear confused her. 

“Are you alright?”

Thomas blinked.

“Yes, I should be fine now. You were saying?”

Madame resumed measuring the boy who she now realized was much too skinny for his age.

“Are you aware of what happened when you were one?”

“I was told by my guardians that my parents died in a car crash.”

Madame shook her head.

“No, they didn’t. Lily and James Potter died trying to protect you from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The Dark Lord then turned his wand on you and cast the killing curse. He died and you survived. We celebrate every Hallow’s Eve the day you defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”

“The day  _ I _ defeated him? I was a baby, how could I have defeated someone who clearly had such an impact you refuse to say his name?”

Madame paused.

“That’s the way the story was told.”

“I don’t think anything happens like how the stories are told.” Thomas scoffed.

“I suppose not. When was the last time you ate?”

“Yesterday’s breakfast, why?”

“You’re very skinny, Mr. Potter.”

“I don’t like to eat much.” Thomas lied.

“It’s not healthy to be this skinny. When you get to Hogwarts, I want you to march to Pompfry’s office and tell her you need nutrient potions. Alright?”

Thomas raised an eyebrow.

“Alright.”

“Now, I’m gonna make your robes a little large so you can grow into them, alright?”

“Alright.”

Madame Malkin finished measuring the small boy and sent him on his way. 


	3. Diagonally

Thomas and Harley seemed to both have control of their body as they looked through the parchment row. Then, a simple black leather journal caught their attention.

Harley was the one who picked it up and looked inside. It was perfect for talking to Thomas as they couldn’t exactly talk aloud to each other anymore. 

Thomas was the one who slid it into their shopping basket along with the rest of their school supplies. 

The wizard at the checkout seemed surprised at how many books Thomas had chosen.

“Wow, you going into Ravenclaw?”

“We’ll see.”

“I mean, these are a lot of books!”

“I am aware.” 

The clerk’s smile faded a bit.

“Well, have a good day.”

“Thank you.”

_ //That was an odd interaction.  _ Thomas wrote.

_ /The ENTIRE day was odd, Tom. btw, what did the woman want?  _ Harley scrawled back.

_ //She was upset that we didn’t know about our parents. According to her and a few of the historical books I bought with our school supplies, our parents were not killed in a car crash but were murdered by a wizard terrorist. The books say that he failed to kill us next and that we are accredited with ‘defeating’ him. We were a baby when Voldemort attempted to kill us and failed. _

_ /But how could we have killed the guy if we were a baby??? _

_ //That’s the thing, Harley. I don’t think we did. We were a baby, so it doesn’t make sense for us to have done that. My two main theories are that either Voldemort is still alive or he accidentally killed himself. _

_ /Oh Merlin… Anything else I should know about? _

_ //Nothing I can think of off the top of my head. _

_ /Don’t we share a head? _

_ //It’s a figure of speech, Harley. _

They closed the book.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They don’t know about mental illness so they look at magic and go, “Yeah, that sounds about right.”  
>  Thomas is unknowingly quarantining the horucrux from Harley and because they didn’t fuse into one “person” as kids, Thomas doesn’t have Harley’s traits to dilute the ‘crux’s influence, and may even gain traits from it as a form of introjection.  
>  Introjecting, not in the plural sense, but in the sense of internalizing external beliefs and traits.

The Potter boys were sitting next to the red boy who helped them find Platform 9 ¾. 

Thomas stared out the window, the Potter journals on their lap. Harley opened the journal they had set aside for his drawings and began sketching the windowsill.

“Hey, I forgot to ask your name. My name’s Ronald Weasly, but you can call me Ron.” The red boy stuck out his hand, hoping to make a friend.

“Potter, Harley and Thomas Potter.” Harley grasped Ron’s hand, also wanting a friend.

“Like Harry Potter?”

“That’s our body’s name, you can just call us Potter.”

“Us? Why are you talking like you are more than one person?”

“Well, we are more than one person! Neither of us liked being called Harry so we just chose new names. What we think happened is that maybe we were twins in the womb and then we merged bodies.”

Ron was flabbergasted. 

“What are you gonna do, mate?”

“I don’t really think there’s anything we can do. Madame Malkin did tell us to go to Pomfry’s office and get some nutrient potions though, so maybe she can do something about us sharing bodies.”

“Wait, you said you were Potter? And that there’s two of you? Who am I talking to? Do you have the scar?”

Harley blinked, then lifted up his bangs.

“Wicked!” Ron exclaimed.

“And I’m Harley. Thomas is still also in control of the body, he’s just being quiet right now.”

“How can you tell?”

“He makes our magic chilly. Whenever he’s in control of the body for a long time it makes me shiver when I come back.” 

“Weird…”

“I know! I didn’t tell any of the muggles we grew up with cause they would’ve just thought we were crazy. It’s nice to be somewhere where we can be honest.” Harley smiled. Ron smiled back, even if he was a bit hesitant about the twins sharing a body it was nice to make friends with the famous Potters.

The door opened and a pale boy poked his head in. Thomas groaned internally.

“Potter! There you are, I’ve been looking all over the train for you! Why didn’t you tell me where you were going to sit?”

“I wasn’t aware you considered someone you only met once close enough to seek out.” Thomas cooley said. Malfoy seemed to wilt a bit at that before spotting Ron. 

“Red hair, hand me-”

“Do you have anything productive to say or do you deem wasting my time with childish mockery over uncontrollable things acceptable.” 

Malfoy and Ron both gaped at Thomas.

“Well? What is it, Malfoy?” Thomas demanded. 

“I… wanted you to sit with us.” Malfoy showed his age of eleven years plainly at that moment. 

“And who is ‘us’, Malfoy?” 

“Well, there’s Crabbe and Goyle and Parkinson and-“

“Are they like you?”

“What do you mean, Potter?”

“Childish.”

“I’m not-no, they aren’t ‘like me’ I suppose.” Malfoy gritted his teeth. 

“Good. What do you think of making a couple new friends, Weasly?” Thomas turned to Ron. 

Ron realized from the look on Malfoy’s face that Malfoy didn’t want him to come but would have to let him if Potter invited him. Ron didn’t want to sit with a bunch of slimy future Death Eaters, but he also really wanted to make Malfoy unhappy and stick with the Potters.

“Sure, I’ll come with you, Potter.” Ron grinned vindictively. 


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a sexy little treat, I will be abusing the 'crux plot device to explain away why the 11 year old is unreasonably cool and epic.

Thomas strode into the carriage, dragging poor Ron along, before Malfoy could. The children assorted there glanced up at him and sneered.

“Lost?”

“Invited.” 

Malfoy popped out from behind Thomas and spoke.

“It’s Harry Potter!”

Thomas rolled his eyes. 

“It’s not even Harry. The body’s name is Harrison. We are Harley and Thomas.”

After the same sort of explanation that Harley did to Ron occurred with the new group, they settled down to play a game of Gobstones. 

Ron and Goyle seemed to bond over their love for Gobstones. Thomas sat back.

Malfoy nudged him after a while. Thomas lazily turned his head to look at the pale boy.

“Yes?”

“So what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“The night you defeated the Dark Lord.”

“The night they say we defeated the Dark Lord, Malfoy.”

“What do you mean?”

“Use your brain. How could a baby defeat Voldemort?” Tom snapped. “It’s more likely that one of three things happened. 1. Our parents created a trap for Voldemort. 2. Lord Voldemort accidentally killed himself. 3. Lord Voldemort never died but faked his death in order to regroup.” 

“You think the Dark Lord might still be alive?!?”

“No, I think it is more likely than a child murdering a magical terrorist.”

“Terrorist?”

“His primary tatic seemed to be to create fear so that half the battle would be won for him.”

“Half the battle?”

“People who are scared of their enemy are much more likely to surrender.”

“I guess I never thought of it that way. But then why would he fake his death to regroup? The Dark Lord would have won.”

“Faking his death would lull the wizarding community into a false sense of security and allow the population to regrow. ”

“Why would the Dark Lord want to let the population regrow?” Zabini interjected. 

Tom turned to look at the usually quiet and observing boy. From the reactions of the others and how they waited with bated breath, he realized Zabini did not talk much in general. Tom also noticed the clear test.

“I don’t think the Dark Lord would like ruling over rubble.” Thomas allowed the sentence to come across as teasing. 

“I guess not.” Zabini’s laugh was carefully careless. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I haven’t read the books or watched the movies in literal years.

Thomas and Harley were sharing control of their body when they took their wand out. 

“Is that a holly wood wand?” Crabbe asked. 

“All he ever talks about is wands, wands, wands.” Goyle groaned.

Potter blinked. 

“You’re into wands, Crabbe?”

Crabbe lit up.

“Yeah, you want me to tell you about yours?”

“Sure.” Harley responded.

“Well, what’s the core?”

“It's a phoenix feather. Ollivander mentioned it was from the same phoenix as Voldemort’s wand core. I jokingly asked if we were related and he said he didn’t think so.” 

Ron sniggered while the rest of the gang went white. 

“Potter, you asked.. if..” Malfoy put a hand on his forehead.

“He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is Harley’s secret son.” Ron deadpanned. 

The entire carriage was silent for a couple seconds. Then they all burst into hysterical laughter. 

When the laughter died out, a knock rang on the door.

“Come in.” Malfoy said lazily. A girl with big, brown, bushy hair popped her head in.

“Hey, have any of you seen Nevile’s toad?” 

Harley noticed that there was an awkward boy behind her. Was that Nevile? The girl’s eyes lit up as she noticed that Harley had his wand out.

“Oooh, are you practicing magic? Let me see!” 

Harley blinked, then remembered a spell he had read.

“What’s the toad’s name?” He asked the two newcomers.

“My toad’s name is Trevor.” The shy boy whispered.

“Accio Trevor!” Harley held his hand open as the toad zoomed into the compartment. He then handed it to Nevile, who lit up when he saw it was okay. 

“Nice job! I’ve been reading a lot but I haven’t really actually done much magic, that is other than accidental magic. You know I had my first bout when I was five, and it was floating a book down from where my parents had put it. What was yours?”

Harley pondered the question.

“I was seven and I turned our teacher’s hair blue because she was being mean to me.”

“I made my little sister’s cake explode when I was four.”

Ron spoke up.

“When I was nine, I accidentally set my father’s paperwork on fire.”

Malfoy added. The bushy haired girl blinked.

“What about the rest of you?”

“We’ll pass.” Zabini said. Crabbe and Goyle nodded. Harley shook his head in amusement. Of course they’d keep such a small detail private. 

“That reminds me, I forgot to ask what your name was. Ours are Harley and Thomas Potter.” 

“Mine’s Hermoine Granger. Wait, did you just say two names?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rubs my grubby hands over the staff and makes them friends

When Harley had finished explaining, it was close enough to the castle that everyone had to change into their robes. 

Potter, Weasly, Granger and Malfoy all shared a boat. Granger info-dumped about the castle, while Malfoy pretended not to be interested. 

“You sound like you read the entire first year history textbook.” Malfoy noted as they were led to the Great Hall by Ms. McGonagall.

“I did!” She bounced on her toes. Malfoy and Ron shared a look of dismay. 

“What do you think they will use to sort us?” Harley asked.

“My brother said we have to fight a troll.” Ron crossed his arms, trying to hide how they shook.

“My father said that you aren’t allowed to tell someone before they are sorted, so most likely your brother was just messing with you.” Malfoy remarked. Ron visibly relaxed. 

Ms. McGonagall gave an impressive speech to the children before allowing them into the Great Hall. 

They all stared at the dingy hat on the stool.

“Why do I feel like I’ve done this before?” Thomas asked aloud, suddenly realizing he was back in control of the body. 

Ron nudged Granger and whispered something that Tom didn’t catch. Malfoy turned to Potter.

“What do you think the hat’s for?”

“That’s what is going to sort us.” Thomas didn’t know where the information came from, but it felt like a fact. Malfoy raised his eyebrows.

“Why do you think that?”

Tom felt irritation rise.

“Malfoy-”

“Abbot, Hannah.” 

The distracted group watched as the determined girl strode up to the hat and put it on. After a while, it shouted 

“Hufflepuff!”

Malfoy, Granger and Ron turned back to look at Tom.

“How’d you know that, Potter?” Malfoy asked. “Did someone tell you?”

“You could say that.” 

The first of their group to be sorted was Crabb and Goyle. They had very similar reactions. Tom wondered if it was due to them growing up together, then he peeked at Malfoy arguing quietly with Granger over if muggleborns should be taken from their muggle parents as soon as they show any sort of magic. 

Crabb and Goyle likely just have similar personalities, he mused. 

They were both very nervous, but did not show it. Tom could feel it in the way their magic crunched up to their bodies as if about to defend itself from something wild and feral. Their magic only unspooled after they both got a resounding

“Slytherin!”

Granger was next. She was visibly nervous, but wore her warm magic like a mane. 

Tom wondered when he had started noticing the magic of others.

She received her Gryffindor designation with joy and a snide twist of the mouth at Malfoy. 

Malfoy received his sorting of Slytherin with his own snide twist of the mouth, although his was directed at Thomas. 

Tom was caught in a burst of cold rage for a second before glancing away. 

  
  


“Potter, Harrison.” Tom sighed as he felt his magic warm with Harley’s presence. 

He could feel the spike of attention and the whispers were deafening. Harley’s warmth curled around their chest and squeezed. Tom ran a hand through their hair in response. 

Thomas had figured out years ago that if he made his coldness (he knew now it was magic) lie slippery and smooth in his hand and then combed through their hair with it, the hair would slick back and straight in a similar way to gel. 

He had done so for school pictures at Aunt Petunia’s request. (She thought it was actual gel.) 

Unknown to Thomas, the way he slicked their hair back reminded Dumbledore of an old student also named Tom.

Thomas strode up to the hat full of false bravado. He was nervous as well. While Harley loved crowds and attention, he did not. Well, he disliked most attention. There was something he loved about the sort of devotion that leaders seemed to garner. It seemed safer, for some reason. 

Thomas had once led a group project for school. There was something in the way his group had looked to him for certain things that felt very nice and almost familiar. 

He sat on the stool and put on the hat.

_ ‘Well, well, well, this looks interesting. Not many children run around with such strong occlumency barriers and even fewer unable to communicate with themselves.’ _

_ 'What are you talking about? What’s occlumency? What do you mean ‘unable to communicate with themselves’, I talk to other people my age all the time!’  _ Harley interjected. 

Tom, who had more control over their body at that moment, visibly jumped. It was bizarre to hear thoughts clearly from inside his head that were not thought by him or even sound like him. 

Malfoy looked at Goyle with a raised eyebrow. While Crabb and Goyle had the same intelligence, Goyle noticed people more. Goyle tilted his head slightly, signaling to Malfoy that he did indeed see Potter jump too. 

' _ Harley?'  _ Thomas guessed. 

' _ Thomas?'  _ It was Harley for sure. 

Thomas recognised his brother’s speech pattern in the way he sounded their age and not older like how Thomas had to pretend to be. 

The hat cleared its non-existent throat.

_ 'Well this is interesting… It seems you two would have two different houses, however we can only sort you both into one house as you share a body.'  _

_ 'What are the houses?' _ Thomas asked at once, his cold magic twisting nervously, causing a few strands of hair to become unslicked. 

' _ Well, you are certainly a slytherin through and through, but Harley I believe?' _

_ 'Yeah.'  _ Harley piped up.

' _ Harley is a gryffindor.'  _

Thomas could feel warmth curling around his ribs like a large serpent. They would learn later that Harley could weave warming charms like most people breathe.

_ 'Well, maybe we could talk abou-' _

_ 'Gryffindor.'  _ Thomas interrupted Harley.

_ 'Oh, well, better be’ _

The last word was shouted for all in the hall to hear.

“Gryffindor!”

The hall, which had grown quiet until realizing that Potter was taking a while to be sorted. It had then started whispering. 

Now, after the announcement of Potter’s house affiliation, that great hall cleaved between rancorous cheering and somber thoughts. 

_ ‘Wow, a lot of people are excited.’  _ Harley thought.

_ ‘I can still hear you, Harley.’ _ Thomas thought back in wonder. 

_ ‘Wow! It’s like telepathy!’ _

_ ‘Does it still count as telepathy if we share a brain? _ ’’

_ ‘Well… I did say ‘like telepathy’ and not just ‘telepathy’’ _

_ ‘....True.’ _

They sat down next to Granger, who nudged them.

“What took you so long to get sorted?”

“Harley and I had two different houses and we had to decide between them.”

“Why’d you have to decide?”

“Because we share a body and can’t exactly be in two places at once.” Tom pointed out, amused by Granger’s sharp boldness in her curiosity. 

“That you know of.”

“Do you know something I don’t, Granger?”

“Well.. no, but we have magic, so it’s not a big stretch to say that there’s probably something that can do that.”

Thomas weighted her words in his inner thoughts, where it seemed Harley couldn’t hear them. 

_ ‘I think she’s right, Tom. We should probably ask the librarian about books on that.’ _

_ ‘Hmm.’ _ Thomas looked up at the staff table, looking for someone that looked bookish. His gaze fell upon a man with shoulder length, slick, black hair and a hooked nose. There was a shrewdness in his sharp gaze that Thomas liked. That man knew things and would not hesitate to use his knowledge. 

_ ‘I don’t like that man with the hooked nose…. Why are we looking at him..?’ _

Harley complained. 

_ ‘See his eyes? I think he’s the librarian.’ _

_ ‘I hope not. He seems mean.’ _

_ ‘I think he is just ruthless.’ _

_ ‘Same thing.’ _

_ ‘I’d have to disagree, Harley.’ _

_ ‘Don’t talk to me like that.’ _

_ ‘Like what?’ _

_ ‘A kid.’ _

_ ‘You are a child, Harley.’  _

_ ‘Then you are too! We’re the same age and you don’t get to talk to me like I'm younger than you!’ _

_ ‘Shh, look.’ _

They blinked as the man made eye contact with them. 

Harry Potter was somehow nothing and exactly like how Severus thought he would be. The child was small. Children were small, but not that small. Not as an eleven year old. 

He had Lily’s eyes, but the rest of him looked like his father. (That horrid brat that never grew up.) 

The child had been almost a hat stall. 

The child was looking at him. Staring at him, almost.

Severus afixed his medium glare at him with a cocked eyebrow.

He took care not to affix any first years with more than mild or medium glares unless they were being dunderheads in his class, which was extremely dangerous.

Most first years were at least a little put off by his medium glare, so he hoped the Potter brat would be. 

Potter gave a slow, smug crescent of a smile. 

It was unnerving. 

Severus realized with a sickening sinking that Potter also looked a lot like someone else he knew. It made no sense to him. Why would Potter have his mannerisms… unless… maybe? No, impossible, the Dark Lord would never raise a child, especially not under Dumbledore’s nose. 

Severus felt incredibly foolish for that rare flyaway train of thought. Potter was just a spoiled brat. Not some secret son. Honestly! He knew he shouldn’t have read that frivolous book Minerva recommended him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! You should probably go do that thing you’ve been putting off now.  
> °.° Go on.


End file.
